


Bloodflower

by EnigmaFuguihua



Category: Diablo (Video Game)
Genre: Children of Characters, Drama, Family, Family Feels, Father-Son Relationship, Fatherhood, Freedom, Love, Melancholy, Mother-Son Relationship, Motherhood, Other, Pain, Paremts and children
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-22 16:47:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20877449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnigmaFuguihua/pseuds/EnigmaFuguihua
Summary: Lilith and Inarius find a new beginning when their son is born. They discover new feelings that change their perspective of life.But everything has a light side and also a dark one, they will learn it with time.A series of short stories about the diablo universe, non canon stories.





	1. Mother...

Lilith looked at the infant in her arms. He was so small and so different from what she expected him to be.

As time went by, carying with it moments that will remain forgoten, lessons of life all of these making memories that will always stay with her.

She learned so much in this times, she learned that she can be loved for all she was, valued for all she offered. Most important she learned to love and carry for what grew within her.

She held her tears as unknown feelings floaded into her being transforming her into something new and different.

She never felt that sickening melancholy that smashed her darkness, leaving her fragile but still strong. She never experienced this overwhelming pain that made her lose her mind and wish to tore apart her skin just to escape this.

It was the first time in her long exietence when she was trully happy, at peace with destiny's toyings on her fate.

The fire of hate from her heart stopped, being replaced with a spark of pain and peace.

Her dangerous body avoided within something so unique. Even if she and her son were like two different races she had to stand her ground for them. She finnaly understood the miracle of life but she could not explain it, it was the power to break her being into two and pass through imense pain only to find peace at the end of suffering.

New hopes and joys washed over her beautiful face as she looked at her son who moved his fingers babbling.

She realized she was not alone in this cold world that kept changing.

Her son opened his blue-green eyes and looked directlly at his mother who smiled at him with all the warmth and compasion she wawas capable of. The baby looked surprised, then he became scared and was ready to cry. But he copied his mother's gesture and yawned.

She touched gently his black hair and forehead, the baby became restless at the new movements that took place around him. His mother just simled widelly and put him close to her chest. Her flesh was hot, a very good source of providing warmth, Lilith embraced him as tight as she could do and left her tears roll down her rosy cheeks.

Her world started a new road, this was a new jurney that transformed her into something better, she never dared to dream that she'll fell love and would give love back. Her bottomless soul was darker than the night without moon. She was raised to be that way, but now, everything was different. Everything started to get new warm colors making her spirit a complex enigma that shone with the purest love that could ever be.


	2. The power of love

A sad and depressing rain fell over Sanctuary.  
Everything was over, it all turned out how Inarius have dreamed it, but why didn't he felt contempted with what had happened?   
Instead of the freeing of soul he felt a huge hole into his chest that grew bigger and bigger with time.   
The angel just sat there in the middle of the green field, watching his creation.   
The small rain drops fell with rapidity crushing against the dry earth. It was the silent symphony of the nature. He saw outside just what should have been, plants, animals, trees, only this and nothing more.   
Peace in it's purest form, a perfect harmony, undisturbed by violence.   
He hoped that with this refuge, this paradise, this secret sanctuary he'll get away from all the blood that washed over huge enigmatic battlegrounds. But, the violence was everlasting, he somehow knew it within his mind, he alway knew he'll never get away from it.   
In this moment he let it's seed grow into a dark and forgotten corner of his high spirit burying it along with his past life.  
He allowed new feelings to splash with more vibrant colors, he left himself swallowed by this new force his virtue, valor and honor demanded him to settle down and defend this new radiant emotion. This love turned him again into the instinct guided animal he had been thaught to be. Somehow, it was different. He saw the enemy in another colors, of sensual red, innocent pink, liberating blue. He could understand how their differences were just reckless façades, as long as their souls were brided by this wave of pure love and peace, the angel could ask for no more.  
A new chapter of his life has ended abruptly leaving place for a new one what seemed more promising. Taking his partener's morbid hand he watched over the new world what was spreading before their eyes as new angels and demons seetled their feet over their new home.   
Dreams are like flowers, they keep out the pain. Their reality is sometimes as brutal as the darkest fall from grace, they are coexisting with the dreamer into it's life, adding new hopes on the stony path of life.   
Inarius knew there would be pain, sorrow or tragedy, but there won't be war nor bloodshed. He passed through fire and ice to make his dream a reality and now, he won't fall from the ninth cloud. The angel swore he'll keep fighting for his new love.  
He turned his head towards Lilith, who gave him a smile. Her beautifull face was all he needed to keep going and fullfill this fantasy of theirs.   
The rogue angel kissed her full light pink lips, she was another peace or his paradise. From now on, she won't give her love to him just in the field of dreams.   
As monstrous as she looked, she proved him she had a bigger heart than even his brother who played the role of justice into the shiny Heavens.   
Her eyes, one grey and one blue shone with the intensity of life sending love sparks through his pure being.   
It was strange that the daughter of the hatred could show such powerfull firey love.   
Their hearts united melted the impossible making it their possibility.   
"I will keep you safe here, my love. No one would ever shame you or hit on you again. I swear." Inarius whispered into her pointy ear, embracing her tempting tall and curved body. "I swear..." He kept on saiyng, holding her tighter.   
"I love you my angel." Lilith whispered after many moments of silence embracing him as she leaned her head on his strong shoulder.   
Their love had no boundaries or secrets, it was a beautifull white flower.


	3. "This is the last abashment I will take from you!You humiliated me for eternity!"

"Inarius has commited grave sins wich outnumber strealing of Anu's Eye, running away from the High Heavens, allying with demons, rebeling against our Sacred Orders, mating with demons, creating pro...genitors." Tyrael said the last word slow with a hint of disgust in his majestic voice.

Inarius felt not guilt, he was laughing all the time at how pathetic his own brother was. In his eyes anyone who spoke against him was like a fly what tryed to make itself noticed by deranging the individuals around it. It (the fly) could not comprehend that it could be easely killed by the human it annoyed. He created a world, he was the master of it, he begot the impossible and they had the nerve to tell him he was wrong all along. If he walter he could erase them all from existence with just a raise of his little finger.

Still laughing, bored of his brother's silly speech, he looked around. In the vast hall of the High Heavens, the place where all the great decisions were made. Nothing changed. It was like he remembered it, shiny, immaculate, brilliant, grandious.

His eyes stoped on his son's figure. The face was swollen, pale like Oris's face when he pressed his lips on her's. That was a filthy memory he dispiced, but, great sacrifices needed to be made for stricking down the magot named...Uldyssian. Still, his son remained the same, useless, ungratefull, stupid, arrogant. His physical apearance changed alot, but it didn't made him wiser, like he-Linarian said he had become.

"Summoning of a demon in his service." Rathma's face turned to purple, his eyes went bigger. For a second, all the life from them was lost, unfortunatelly for a second. He was shocked, tears made his hooded eyes shiny. A stream of anguish washed his stone like figure, his face turned into a comedy great for Inarius who was bored. His son looked helpless, alone, scared, he vague barelly knew where he was now. In an attempt to keep himself grounded he put his palms on his knees sighing hard.

All the humans (Mandeln, Serenthia, Achilios) went pale, they gasped in one second as fear paralized their thin frail bodied. How amusing they were!

"Archangel Tyrael... what?" Rathma was surprised in a bad way. It, it felt like all his battles for keeping Sanctuary safe failed in one damned second because of his father's vanity. His trust was broken leaving behind no place for forghiveness and wise words. All his heatred went outside boiling, no one could save Inarius now!

"Nephalem! Are you that stupid!? In your sacrilegious world how on Anu's Grace do you think h..."

"Brother let me clarify for him. It is not justice if we hide his...their's father's sins from them. They need to see the truth." Without waiting for an answer from Imperius, Tyrael turned to Rathma who looked like he was going to have a heart crush. He fought with his anger and his tears.

He could not snap there. He had to keep his patience, but the angels said what Diablo told him in the great city when they fought. Even if Uldyssian had scared him to death, the demon went ravishing the world in search of fear to fuel his anger and make himself stronger so he could defeat this pety human. The demon told him that his father summoned him here, in exchange for his service he traded Sanctuary. Rathma thaught the demon was using this just to scare him, so he could defeat Sanctuary's gatekeeper. So the demon was speaking the truth, he wasn't playing around, he wasn't trying to confuse him.

"Nephalem, Inarius made a pact with Diablo, he summoned him on your world and so he opened it to demonic invasions."

Tears formed in Rathma's eyes, this time the angel stepped on his heart too easy.

"Inarius, why?" His voice broke in a embarasing whisper. Rathma tured to face his father who started to laugh maniacally. This time something broke into his heart, leaving him alone. He now knew he was fighting alone against the whole universe to keep Samctuary safe and sound. " DO YOU SEE THE GRAVITY OF YOUR ACTIONS!? " the sudden change in nephalem's usual peacefull tone shocked anyone there.

Even the angels, who were caught offguard. Serethnia thaught of him as a pious man, he displayed a wise figura, a wise mind, but now, she feared , Achilios was surprised too by this high pitched scream that echoed all the bitter sicken matter the Ancient held into his heart. He reached the boiling point, now the pain he held captive inside burst with the first ocasion turning into animalic hatred. The humans didn't know if they should stop him or let their ancient father shed his venom on their malefactor. Inarius deserved all the punishments what had to come from his brothers or his son, or even both.

Mendeln, he was caught offguard by this. He never heard Rathma shout, swear, throw a tantrum, shamsh things, he never saw him angry from when Trag'oul made him tell the whole history of Sanctuary and it's demonic and angelic creators. He was restless anytime he talked about his parents but now, now he because a beast.

His teacher and friend was consumed by his rage. He thaught about calming him, but, after all it was a familly mater he knew nothing about. It felt better to let Rathma make Inarius pay for what he had done to humanity.

He still felt like he needed to calm Rathma, but, he was right in his rage output. Inarius violated the sacred meaning of Sanctuary, he endagered all it's people with his stupid games. He took Uldyssian's hunting too far, he had to be stoped.

Rathma smashed his daggar and bones bind (he held a bind made from 66 bones from the spine of different humans. The nephalem used it to shuffle in his palm with his fingers in an attempt to keep his concerns and anger in his mind. The spinning of it, into his palm took away his mind from anger and emotional showing, making him take wise, mature decisions. It served as a distraction from emotions. )

Seeing Rathma like it made him anxious, especially that he never let this two elements away. Never. He carried this two things with him anywhere. All he could do was gasping in fear and prey to Trag'oul to speak some sense into his friend's mind.

Inarius was surprised in his son's attitude change, he stoped for a bit to look at him.

"IF YOU WANNA KNOW ABOUT IT, UNGRATEFULL SON! I WAS FORCED, FRAMED." Inarius rised an acussing finger at Mendeln. "HE'S BLASPHEMOUS BROTHER MADE ALL OF THIS! THE SINNER. IS HIS HAULT I WAS FRAMED BY H..."

"SHUT UP!" Rathma's scream echoed the Great Hall of the Heavens. All the angels looked curious at the nephalem who showed his dark side. Auriel was the most dissapointed in Inarius, she didn't expected him to become like this. Her nightmare became true in seconds, the angel was gone, tortured by madness.

"LINARIAN I AM THE MASTER OF THE UNIVERSE, I AM YOUR FATHER I WON'T ALLOW YOU TO TREAT ME LIKE I AM NOTHING. YOU WERE ALWAYS LIKE YOUR MOTHER UNGRA..."

"FRAMED, FRAMED? HOW CAN YOU BE SO RELAXED ABOUT THIS CRIME!? YOU SOLD SANCTUARY FOR YOUR VANITY!" Rathma shouted at Inarius who started to laugh at him, even if he was confronted with his crime he made it look like a blessing.

"Serenthia, give me your spear!" Rathma said coldly while his hand stretched for the weapon.

"What are you going to do?" She asked scared by the macabre fierce deep tone of his voice. His face was like pure snow, his right ceeck trembled terrible, he was a mess. The anger made his beauty wither under the raging storm of negative emotions.

"I am going to do what I had to do from the begining. I DON'T FORGIVE YOU THIS TIME...INARIUS!" Calling his name made Rathma's anger increase. The angel laughed like a mad man spitting curses at his son. Without her consent he took the weapon, Achilios huged Serenthia who was utterly scared.

Without hesitation, the nephalem rushed to Inarius, hitting him with such anger and first for revenge. The angel's mocking laughs were replaced by screams.He never stoped hitting not when he spoke to him, with every word game a hit with the spear, wich Rathma used like a stick.

"HOW MANY TIMES DO I OFFERED MY HELP TO YOU? I... I WON'T LET YOU ESCAPE THIS TIME. YOU ACT LIKE A BRAT, ALL I CAN DO TO PREVENT ANOTHER CRIMES TO OCCURE FROM, YOU IS TO DISCIPLINE YOU! WHY? WHY DID YOU DID SUCH THING? ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND? " Rathma's strong inhalings were all that made him stop from spitting the venom he held inside for such long time. The sound of the iron spear smashing his angelic body was true horror for the angels who were scared by the crazed nephalem. "DO YOU SEE THE DANGER YOU PLACED ALL OF US IN JUST TO KEEP YOUR TIRANY? DO YOU? " Even if the spear was used as a stick the nephalem hit him with such a rage. He forgot the sacred blood tie that united them. To be fair, none of them sad the other as a relative.

Auriel was scared by this new corrupted Inarius who looked more like a demon( at how soul) than an angel. She connected with the nephalem, who was his son, all the desperation, anger, dissapointment, fear, resentment made her tremble. This vertigo of emotions put her down for a little, she now realized that the humans were victims of their parents.

"YOU ARE NEVER ENOUGH! YOU CROSSED THE BORDER! I HAVE TO TEACH YOU WHAT HUMILITY AND PAIN MEAN!" Inarius tryed to defend himself but, he was to weak from the fight he had with the scum, Uldyssian. Now he hated his son more than anytime.

He never stoped hitting , as time passed he's hits became increasingly strong er and louder.

The angels saw he(the nephalem) held his hand pressed over his chest, he breathed harder and harder. Mendeln saw the suffering from his friend's body and voice, he ran to stop him, but Rathma pushed hit away, not looking at his disciple.

"LINARIAN, KNEEL BEFORE... ME... AND, ASK... FO... FORGIV... I WILL DESTROY Y... SINNER"

"THIS IS THE LAST ABASHMENT I WILL TAKE FROM YOU!...YOU HUMILIATED ME AND MY PROGENITORS...FOR ETERNITY!...YOU EXPECT ME TO STAY HANDS CROSSED... WHEN YOU STRIKE AND ENDAGER THEM FOR YOUR SICK PLAYS? ...SINNER... SINNER ME!... I HAVE GOT... THROUGH FIRE, TERROR...AND DEMONS TO WASH YOUR SINS! TO KEEP SANCTUARY SAFE. I AM TIRED OF REPAIRING YOUR MISTAKES .L" Rathma got out all the grudge he had for Inarius. In a matter of seconds, the nephalem took his gloves off showing terrible fresh wounds on his hands. Serenthia shouted when she saw that his right hand from wrist was sewed. Fresh blond dropped from his wounds, the effort made the wounds open and hurt more than they did when they were made. "They bleed like demons do." Malthael made this statement to himself as he watched this tragic show. Inarius was still an angel, but as his son have said:he had to learn humility and pain. "Even if he is in pain, barely resisting he is still not giving up. interesting!" Iterael thaught as he analized the nephalem who was beating Inarius. He had wounds on his hands and chest, the wounds looked terrible but he was persevering despite the pain that broke him at every hit.

"I'M TIRED... I'M TIRED... I'M TIRED ... I'M TIRED...I'M TIRED..." Barely keeping himself on his feet Rathma kept on hiting Inarius like every hit would repair Sancutary, bring all his dead brothers and sisters back to life, solve this terrible crissis they were in.

"SACRILEGE!" Imperius shouted when he saw the demon- nephalem blood being splat over the great hall of the Heavens.

"ENOUGH!" Tyrael shouted in the end, încing his brother's shame and misery, the punishments was something born from desperation, teatre, anger, resentment, pain. But he knew his brother, he would not undersratand the lesson and hoe much pain he had made through his actions. His soul hurt when he saw his brother suffering like this, it also hurt for the human who died. Also the confesions of the crazed nephalem, who was apparently his nephew made him realize what kind of road Inarius took in the last thousends of years.

Colapsing to the floor Rathma took a deep breath to rejuvenate himself, the humans wan to him caring for his wounds and his broken mind. With spells they tried to heal his wounds or at least stop the bleeding that put his life in danger.

Like a mother, Auriel took Rathma's head into her palms looking at his restless, tired face. She was moved by the vertigo that still roamed into his soul. Covering his eyes with her palms, she sang to him a song of healing that was meant to calm the soul, at the same time closing the physical wounds.

She took care of him, sang to him, calmed him, she sat by his side untill he calmed down falling asleep. While she looked down at the beautifull face of the human, she imagined all the pain and suffering he gone through.


	4. The last abashment I will take from you. The deeper the love the greater the hatred.

Inarius sat into his cold disgusting cell waiting for his destiny to be fated. How he hatred Linarian, Uldyssian, the nephalem, Tyrael, Auriel, Malthael, Itherael, Imperius, humanity. But he swore he will rise again, stronger. He will make them suffer when I'll gain he's power. He will torture them in horendous unseen ways he will slowly rip their bones piece by piece.

He will cut their tongues, arms, and eyes so they'll see how weak and fragile they are compared to him, him the most powerfull being on the universe.

Linarian will feel his hatred in the most intense ways, he, this worm dared to him on his father. He will pay with him blood and soul for the deceiving he showed. Then he-Inarius will teach him humility.

Steps broke his sick thaughts. The angel turned to sad who was there. In front of him, pale like a dead stood his son, with a coldly dead spark in his amazing eyes.

"You..." Inarius hissed trying to get closer to his son. "You came to shame me again...but... keep in mind." The angel said the words soft and harshly, his magnific voice breaking with every word. "I will show you NO mercy. For your great sins. I WILL STEP ON YOU. Again and again and again ." Linarian showed no changing ofexpression he looked the angel, he felt pity for him, he was again a stone. " I finally understand it." The angel sighed.

"The mortal confronted me for an illusion. He is dead and I win. " Inarius started laughing.

"Wrong. All is wrong." Rathma added with a cold smile on his face. The angel stopped laughing and looked directly at his progenitor. "He did it to make you anxious, to scare you, to make you feel jealous. To put you down. "

"I wasn't scared by him."  
"Yes you were. You were scared he'll use the Worldstone's power to wipe you from existence. Like he did with Lucion."

A shiver sant through the angel makeing him incapable of speaking.

"Did the Worldstone's alteration has something to do with you? My wretched son?" Inarius was angry he's voice broke in many sounds only the angels could understand.

Rathma looked him through his whole being before answering. "Of course."

"YOU ARE AS DISPICABLE AS YOUR MOTHER!"

Rathma laughed slowly as he came closer to the angel.

"I am a fool!" Inarius said sofly. " I have been playing in your palm all along. " Inarius became restless, he started walking through the chamber singing angelic notes that broke too soon. They sounded like whimpers.

"YOU'RE LYEING!" He showted trying to get Rathma by his collar. WHY ARE YOU SO MERCYLESS!?"

"WHY? Why?" Rathma shouted while he was living his chain made of bone. "I am not ruthless ! I do what i can to survive, none of you understands. To defend Sanctuary I have to be alive and well, I have to make my path clear and cut every weed that grows in the way, it could be a difficulty in Sanctuary's growth. Not my mother, not even you could understand that! You stayed alive just to fight and show your dominance. From my birth I was forced to be in the middle of every quirell you and she had. I was tired, I could not breath. So I left to make my own path. All i wanted to do was to live, but you and her threatened all i've ever valued so i had to act." Rathma gasped, it was so exhausting to speak his mind, he placed his palm close to his chest. "

"IT WAS YOU! You convinced him to turn against me, you convinced him to alterate the Worldstone, you convinced him to rebell against me, you convinced him to hit on he...r. You were all along. You put the daggars in our hands and made us begrudge one another. "  
"Wrong... Everything is wrong. " Rathma laughed loudly, perhaps the most intense laugh he had in his life. " You are a male as I am. Keep that in mind, when a man falls for a women or even a piece of her body, he is damned. From pure he becomes abject. From honest he becomes a lier. From mercyfull he becomes ruthless. Obsession is the sweetest poison, you wer..." Linarian said it in a low tone.

"STOP PLAYING WITH ME! Linarian, you entraced youself at every of my steps. You were here to replace, destroy and remove."

"Continue." Rathma contemplated Inarius it was a true face, moreover. his father became a savage beast his essence was boiling at the remembering of her. It was an amusing tragedy, starcrossed lovers who were fated to fail.

"You lured him into my vision, you used traps to make us fight and despise eachother. You did it to to cut me down to overcome me. " The angel started to whimper when he looked at his son who sat there pleased of his confessions. He grabbed Rathma's hands and looked furious at them, he's still bleeding palms looked charming, but the most entrancing of them was the blood, spilled for protection of the humanity-as he said. " Your hands are still clear, the blood soaked on your appareal. You masterfully concoted this plan! You stay pure and pious as for me, I . I am like a tiranic demon in their eyes. And the... the mortal is a martyr." A nervous laugh combined with a cry broke down from Inarius. He realizez he was skillfully defeated, he could not stand it. Suddenly, Rathma grabbed Inarius wrists rising him at his eye level. "I am the firstborn on Sanctuary. It is my duty to protect it from anything and everything. I will get through horrors, suffering, pain and blood. I will fight legions of demons, armies of angels, you, her.  
Do you remember what you told me when you defeated me for the first time. 'The weak ones are alwais the first to fall' I am not as you've knowm me. Never underestimate me, father!" 

The angel was inflamed by a wave of hatred, he trembled in a nervous laughter holding his knees with his wings. "WHAT A SILLY WISECRACK. He trembled like he was smashed into the Frozen Sea. "A joke. What a joke!" "I..." "It was a beautifull dream...A paradise your kind ruined. " 

"We did not asked to be born, father ." Rathma liked to tell the word father slow like it was an insult. "But her... She had to begot you children to make you think she is yours. To make you think you too are chained by a holy blessing... Tell me now. Your hatred for Uldyssian came from your love for Lilith? " 

"SHAMELESS!" Inarius rised a condamning finger at his som hissing the word with such hatred and pain.

"So my assumption is true." 

"WHY ARE YOU RUTHLESS!" The desperation was clear like daylight into Inarius's voice.  
"My children, brothers and sisters died by your hands. I dream them every night full of blood, forced through agonizing interrogations. I hear their cryes and screamings when I try to sleep. "The angel shivered. "You will never know such pain, father! It is obvious vanitous tiranical beings like you want to be seen as pious. The greatest wisecrack in the universe. " Rathma sighed, clearing his forehead with his sleeve. " The deeper the love, the greater the hatred." The nephalem contemplated to himself. But, Inarius knew what he was clinging to. "You hatred for the human came from the jealousy for him , all of it came from Lilith. " Before the angel could protest, Rathma spoke again. " You did it from disconetent, hatred, jealousy, fear. The human was close to have all you've had. And even more."

"SHUT UP!" 

A giggle escaped Rathma's dry lips. 

"Yes. I was scared. I felt very threatened. He was gaining all i've held dear. I felt discontent with myself. I did so much for her, I gave her all i had, I gave her my love, protection, trust. It was in vain. When I saw her giving to another all she gave me... NO..." He sighed defeated by words. "Or... perhaps even...more I lost the grip. I ended up with nothing... I hated her... I hated all we've done... I' ve hated you... I've hated him... I hated them...I hated all I've become. I wanted to roun all the cherished and protected so I head to be the shiniest light possible. She and to come back to me, kneel, cry and beg for my forghiveness. " The angel laughed again his laugh combined with whimpers. "Son...Have you... You...come to...?" Rathma smiled. A beam of light and happines lid his handsome face. "It is good you understand." Rathma closed his eyes and from one of his pockets he got out a bottle with a wierd pale rusty orange content. "You will feel no pain, father. This is my mercy. " Inarius took the small rounded bottle into his palms. 

"NOOOOOOOO!" He shouted as he smashed the bottle on the wall. "I WON'T PLAY INTO YOUR HAND AGAIN, RAT!" The angel arose from the ground waking towards his son who displayed no feelings. 

"This is the last mercy i had for you. The Angiris Council sold you to Mephisto, Lilith's father. Who is up for revenge for his slain children. " 

"YOU LIE!" The angel started laughing nervously, Rathma paid him no mind. 

"This is was you feel this sudden torrent of hatred." 

"NO! No! no! They won't... It can not be..." The angel lost his own power to stand up on his feet. Babbling, he started laughing then crying makeing himself small into a corner. Rathma looked at him for some seconds, before puting his hands on his back giving his father a victorious look. 

"Angel, open the door I finished talking to the traitor. " The door opened, before it could be closed again Inarius tried to sprint out shouting and lamenting, the other angel who was guarding fought to keep him in. "LINARIAN! I WILL GET THROUGH THIS AND THEN I WILL SMASH YOU... AAAAAA TRAITORS. WRETCHED SOOOOON." All that could be heart for a long distance was the angel who lost all his sanity.


	5. I am Rathma

He finally could get out of the water and breath again. As long as he did so, he wished he would have died drowned. The sky hard a stricking blue, the light of the sun was too intense. But he gasping, got out of the lake, trembling like a wet dog. The sight of black smoke sant shivers through his wrecked body. Then the smell of burning flesh pierced through his nose, it was disgusting, gross, stricking. The shock of this memory also evoked the realization of where he was.  
A shiver of fear and disbeleif ran through his spine, he could not feel his hands.  
Gasping he tried to get up, a nod blocked the air to get into his throat. He was sufocating at the realization of his loss, his great irremediable loss.  
He tried to shout but he was mute, the air wasn't enough for hit to breath.  
"THE WEAK ONES ARE ALWAYS THE FIRST TO FALL!" He's father' s words echoed through his head, breaking every piece of sanity he hard left. Oh and how he hard fallen! He cursed himself for all his carelessness.  
"No." Lirarian said to himself as the gold breezee hit his injured soared body. "It is an ilussion. A mere ilussion." Exited he got up, the blond rushing through his veins. "An ilussion"  
But as long as he faced the macabre battleground he's hopes turned to madness. Linarian shouted as hard as he could, like the shouting could free him from the nightmare he's life and become.  
A dreadfull shiver put him on the ground, shouting and hitting the ground with his fists . He sat like this, crying , sobbing, mumbling. 'Inarius was right, I am so weak and pathetic. '  
Trembling he choose to stay there, to cry untill his face went dry.  
"WHY? Why? why?" He kept repeating to himself without a saving answer.  
A stricking leg pain whipped him, but it don't mattered.  
The sound of cracking fire and nothing else drove hit into a terrifing frenezy what chilled he's blood. He shouted again, louder to cover all the silent madness that was contouring around him.  
He sat like this and cryed like a pathetic shamefull child untill he felt he's eyes would fall from the crying.  
Still Linarian was not ready to face his worse mistake but he had to do something. As he got up on his own legs, the wind was cold and stronger, it was trying to put him down, but no, he won't fall this time.  
His vision was blinded by tears, the nephalem fell to the ground numerous times hurting his bones. For any fall he would rise again stronger and determined to walk through all the disaster, but where?  
Linarian sat still for a moment. The sky was in twilight, a half was covered by darkness and the other half still had some light into it. The sun was just a red point far in the horizon, it was mimiking the blood that soaked this fied. A knife hit Linarian's back, it was just his feelings, he was alone in this godforsaken place. He rised his head to the sky, it was beautifully blended with colors. Tears rolled down his dirty cecks. The crickets already started their sumery ballad enlightening him with the sound of life for this crushing time. In the middle of the field, he was a dried willow, he started to wall towards it, but his legs were seriously injured. Blood fell like rivers from them, it did not mattered how much he forced himself to walk, it was in vein.  
The wind started to howl extinding the fire around him, for a moment the faces of his wife, children, dear friends who were the blood familly he did not had pictured themselfs into his broken mind. He sat in silence, thinking of them, how he had guided them to their graves. A siver of pain struck his body.  
"The world is so cruel." He said as he started to crawl on his hands to the willow. " This disaster is my sin to bear, I will take it with me for my eternity. All I did into this life were just mistakes. Born from an angel and demon, I ran away from them trying to start a new life, like a coward. One mistake. I got love and made a new way into this cursed world, still harvesting the same wishes for freedom and rebelion. Two mistakes. I kept my powers, without perfectioning them. Tree mistakes. I gave life to my beloved children, still without the power to protect them. Four mistakes. I dragged them into this war, without the ability to keep them safe. Five mistakes. I took my brothers and sisters through my fight, without the power and mind to assure succes. Six mistakes. I left miself swollen by the same dominating fantasies my parents once had. Seven mistakes. I tryed to fight my parents harvesting the same resentment they had for me. Eight mistakes. I could not see I can't win using fire against flame. Nine mistakes. I remained a stuborn fool. Ten mistakes. " Linarian was gasping, he felt like he could die at anytime. The body was burning the pain was extreme but he could not think at himself right now, he had to end it. A nail broke makeing him stop for a moment and laugh at how childish he was, it was a stupid nail. It hurt him he was the only one at fault for this, it hurt him he could not save them, like he had thaught he was doing.  
"This world is cruel! Not fitting for fools with big empty dreams." He simeled he almost got to the tree, the excitement was so big he kissed the roots of the tree.  
The first nephalem took his rope belt and looked at it in a melancholic way. The death and life were sacred, he could not dare to ask for a new day. He could not ask for the sun to wash it's warm rays over he's hapselly body, he could not bear to see his family dead, he could not bear to see Inarius and Lilith once again. He could not bear to be a wodden doll in their hands.  
He leaned on the tree, looking at the sky. "Father, mother, you were right. I am weak and a fool who spins around causing troubles." With a pain in he's heart, he looked the flames what were consuming anything. "Brothers, sisters, familly. I am taking my farewell to you! May Trag'oul's grace guide you to the Other Realm safe and sound! I am sorry for shortening your lifes." A stream of tears fell down his face. He covered them with he's sleeve. "No, I will not cry. It won't bring you back." He said very calm this time. "I will end my miserable life here. I am no longer Linarian. No." He said while he put the halter around he's neck, he turned his back to the fire. He instead looked in the darkness, at the stars what started to show themselfs. "I am Rathma." He said loud as he left himself hang by the halter, saying goodbye to his life.


	6. Melancholic introspection. Between love and lust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspirat by chapter Branches from Solid State by Miss Gems .  
Music. Temple of love - COVER BY Johnny Hollow (Original song Sisters of Mercy)  
Lucretia My Reflexion - Sisters of Mercy  
Disjecta Membra - Necrophilia  
The Cure - Lullaby  
Chapters After Sex - Crush

All the life in the room was asleep, only the soft breaths and the chill breeze that found it's way into the room, created an atmosphere of delightfull peace. Rathma woke up overdone by wierd dreams of lifeless angels and devouring demons who sought for his soul. He gasped shivering. The memory of the dream was fading away, as he became more concious.

Under the mild cold sheets, his lover twitched around murmuring, searching slowly for him in her slep.

Sometimes the gestures could speak more than words, sometimes they were the best action that could turn the tide of fate up right. Slowly he moved closer to her and remained silent, waiting for her to find him. In this moment, his lips were to dry to speak the same words of love and reassurence she craved to hear from him. His neck felt to stiff to breathe in her ear as a silent sign of his presence. He just sat motionless in the dark, analizing his life and the decisions that got him here.

His body shivered under her sloppy grip on his upper arm, pasting herself tight on him and gasping in her sleep, she was life a firefly or a spark. This night woke a realization in him. Too caught in this lusty wasteland, he felt that the souless urges were never going to end. He felt his heart ache at the new realization of his demonic heritage. This unknow side of him was a dreadfull ruin that scratched his bare skin. A side that came to rimind Rathma that he was lost in a sea of blood, the redemption, the sorrow, the lust always broke through his being feeding the animal inside. The shouts of his inner inkubus fell silent under the soft murmurs, where she was declaring her love to him before they went to sleep. It felt like a last breath, like an oath of devotion. Even if this was an illussion of the mind, who craved for an affection, what could shatter the tormented bloodlust what burned inside their veins, it was a sweet illusion. It felt like the soft brezee of spring, a soft tranquility that molded them into beings of love and caress.

He knew their love always ended in the morning, but they were too stuborn to accept this bitter reality. In the desperate attempt to keep the reveric love alive, they melted in the sin, giving free hand to their obscene wishes, that were the only thing that took them away from this world. Somehow they both knew it all was meant to end after they would copulate.

Still, he found himself shivering under her passionate kisses. It was an energetic freezing, when their desire and their love became the same, under a waltz of their own. This state of being was a sorrowfull pleasure. Complicate to comprehend, easy to live.

Rathma felt her in every detail of his new thaughts, his heart was pounding when she wasn't around. Even though he knew he would lose her eventually, in the midsts of life, he attatched to her flowery smell, the contour of her body, the words she used to describe her feelings, the way she unveiled her thaughts in front of him, the fragility of her body, the labirinth of her mind. It was all enchanting, when he could find some new side of her disociated in the maze between logic and soul. The descovery was a treasure he kept for himself, not daring to let her know that he was closer to her in a spiritual way.

Rathma sat there in the silence, separating the love from lust and hoping he found the one. He closed his eyes as a stream of anguish washed his soul, he felt calm under the silence of the night. Where the winds, birds, her breaths and ocasional murmurs were a allurig trace for his stream of thaughts.

He wished to open his mouth to say something nice or loving but he could not, the words were blocked in his neck. The intensity of the emotion weighed on his body as the heart beats increased, words were too meaningless in this middle of the night.

Rathma thaught so and turned his head to see her. She was sleeping like a child, a pink blush covering her cheeks, her mouth open and her ivory bare skin cold under the soft july breeze. This love they had was a wierd feeling for him, an experience where he had no clue how to act or how to speak.

He watched her peacefull face and he knew they would not be the same in years. He knew the love would turn to a prison where their souls would melt untill they became a single being. He knew this prison of desire would consume them as it did to Lilith and Inarius, from two boundles of love they became crazed by jealousy and hate. He was slain by this heavy thaught, Rathma avoided at every cause to fall back in the same vertigo that haunged his early years. But it could be possible, if he made a wrong step all steps would be wrong . He sighed pushing this dark view aside, concentrating on more meaningful events.

He lyed on his naked back with her sleeping now on his chest, all the memories that pierced his mind were serene pieces of adoration that put a small smile on his face. He started to wonder if he could find her in another woman, but it never happened. He never found the same woman twice. They all were haunting and diverse, like flowers.

He wasn't a soulless lover like his mother, or a tiranic keeper like his father, he was posessing traits from both of them, but he wasn't like them. He reassured himself while he looked how her hair was scattered in a messy pile over his body and the pillow. Slowly he caressed her hair in a gentle way, carefull to not disturb her sleep.

This dreamless thaughts were a never ending thread that drove him into a deep introspection where he found in himself feelings he had no clue about. Relaxing his body, Rathma put her arm around his lover, the woman just hugged him tighter.

This gave him a heartbreaking pain.

Love was a mult of soul, matter, spirit, desire, lust, companionship. And all this traits balanced perfectly could give him a life long ally, or a great fucking, or a devouring enemy. He had to be carefull to not trip on the illusion of prefect love. This understanding calmed himself somehow.

Rathma was aware this might end, but he had to do what he could to keep their love real, for now. If they were not meant to least, the memories would paint her beautiful or wild, only time would decide anything.

As the definion of time came to cursh all he knew, he left his mind fall into a trace. Realizing he was worrying in vein, because he was no ready to know how his life would look. He realized he had nothing to worry about because the fate would decide how they would turn. All he knew was that love was a leaf caught in a soft brezee, spiralling without direction and controll.

" Are you sleeping?" His girlfriend murmured sighing. She rised her head to see his eyes closed, he was tired she thaught and covered them more with the soft cover.

Rathma sat there enjoying the soft peace of an introsective meditation, there were no words to be told in this night.

Esu made herself more confortable in his arms, holding her hands around him, as if she was searching to show her affection through a nice gesture.

She wanted fo tell him about her dream, but there was time in the next day.


	7. Fatherly ties

Rathma was stunned as another scream blasted his ear. He had no clue what to do, how to act to make things better. His hands trembled, and he lived each moment at pure adrenaline, he closed his eyes inhaling and opened them again.

She was paler than the last hour, she trembled and screamed in agony. Rathma wished to do something to make Esu feel better but he could not. Rathma had no clue how he felt, he was numb, his body sore. His eyes wateres in tears, forsaken by hope he fell harder into the realms of fear. His heart pounded into his chest, as he materialized at some metaphisical spiritual level with the miracle of birthing, or better said tormenting nightmare of birth.

Birthing was pain, he knew it, but he didn't thaught it was so much agony. The nephalem sat there, at her side doing small things to improve the situation, he would catch her hair into a pony tail, clear her face of sweat, hold her hand when the pain was unbearable, take water from the well, throw out the bucket of blood and other liquids when it was needed.

But still, this immense anxiety was crippeling on him. A day and a half passed since she had her first contractions, and nothing happened. Esu only felt worse with each hour that passed over her.

"Come on breath, push harder!" One of the women told hurried, never rising her head from the mass of blood and gore that was the birthing. She was old, experienced in such matters, having kids of her own and helping others give birth succesfully made herself quite a creer over the paste decade.

Birth was maybe the most painfull and traumatic experience from his life, for now.

Rathma almost jumped when he felt something catching his palm tight and the smashing it with force. It was her, she needed some suport from him.

She looked at him with this red wet eyes and pale face. A cold stream of sweat fell over her tightened suffering body. Her eyes could show more pain than words could describe, he trembled shocked as a wave of shame combined with grief washed over his soul. This eyes, he never saw this eyes, this terrorized eyes what melted all his strenght in a matter of seconds. The weakness hold him by the neck as he was trying to get a hold over himself and do something. He felt bad only watching her, the incompetence and a stream of guilt floaded over his heart. It was too much, he started to despise this child for the simple fact that he/she was tormenting them in such sadistic heartless way.

'The woman is a total mess, she looks like she is dieing. ' Rathma thaught, as he analized her. He clearly regretted agreeing on having a child, it was too much to bare. 'How could something so extatic lead to so much torture? Nature wasn't fair!'

Rathma, everything that happens is a lesson meant to build humans stronger and wiser. Trag'oul's soft tone came into his mind as guidence. The entity was something Rathma contacted during his meditations, he had no clue what it was, he just knew this spirit was a river of wisdom and the greatest mentor he had ever met.

He sat there in silence with a crisped face as he was trying to hold himself togheter, but he felt like each piece of his soul was smashed by an unknown guilt. Trembling from pain she thrust her nail harder in his flesh. As another spasm of pain shattered her body, she kept increasing the grip on Rathma's hand, untill small rivers of blood started to fload from his open wounds.

He felt like he was going to vomit, as an utter disgust floaded in his stomach, he felt nauseaus. Fear had such effect on people! Trag'oul told him, it is normal to be like this. It is the birth of you child. Trag'oul tryed to make him brave and to pass him, mentally, safe and sound through this.

But Rathma felt like he was buryed alive, each moment that passed over him, was like a new pile of dirt covering his cold body. The women kept reassuring it was all right, but he saw her withering with any hour. It was too late to save her, but how could he save her by her own child? He thaught as he ran a hand over his sweaty forehead, he was tired, scared, angry, alone.

Alone, even if he was trying to make ties in this life, he felt always alone, always scared to make a mistake, always cold. Now he realized he should have apreciated the solitude more and he should have thaught with his head not his dick. The heart and hopes brought him in this crushing situation where he had to stay at the crossroads and prey. He felt he was falling and caught the headbord in his right hand, he sighed hard as he was consumed by his feelings he was so hard trying to surpass.

Another shout but this time, something new accompanied it, a soft sound of breaking of bones. Rathma jumped surprised from his chair looking around, his body was full, then...her was breaking.

He sat stunned watching as ond of the woman lit some candles. Dumbfound he looked outside and saw darkness. How much time passed? He wondered ignoring the screams and the rushing back and forth of the women.

"Give me some light!" The old woman ordered in a panick as she was trying to keep anything under controll.

Limp, Rathma watched Esu who now looked more like a raisin than a woman. Covered in sweat, bearelly breathing, his heart broke at such image. And the realization that he contributed in this mass pain and torture made him struggle to stay even more. Bearelly murmuring some words, Esu rised her hand to search for Rathma but he kept walking backwards away from her.

He hands fell limp over his body as he kept walking faster, keeping watching Esu who was getting closer to her death. He could not stay, he could not bare this mental torture of staying and being helpless. Declaring himself defeated, he rushed outside of the house stumbling in a chair and a blood bucket. Pale as a corpse, he rused outside with his face swollen trembling like a child after Lilith was beating and terrorizing him without a reason. He almost fell because his legs felt too soft to carry him, this shock made him lose his controll over his body too.

He kept breathing faster and faster, but it felt like it wasn't enough. He fell in thr garden and never moved, he felt he was dieing from this mental anguish. This life was breaking into pieces as he was beating himself down over this traumatic birth.

Are you going to greet your legacy in tears and anguish? Trag'oul asked rethorically. Linarian. Rathma shrudded at the hearing of his real name. You are stronger than you think. Beathing yourself down won't change anthing. Trag'oul advised him as a father would. The birth has always been pain and torture, but the love for their children made the mothers keeping up with it. It might sound childish, but love is the feeling that bound you to her even if you won't admit in an eternity. You loved her, she was and is your rage and delight. After the love faded you kept cherishing her because of the mutual frindship you two made togheter.

Rathma felt too numb to argue with this being of supreme wisdom. A fload of tears fall over his red cold face, it felt like the most liberating moment from the last day or so. The chill air of spring calmed him a little. He stoped shaking and the screams didn't scared him that much. Closing his eyes, what felt so heavy and also like burning, he said a short prey for Esu and their still unborn child. Carefull he rose up from the ground only to find out that his ankle was dislocated. Laughing at himself Rathma continued to dur in the same spot, and watch the stars from above.

The midwife could not contain her laugh, as she saw Rathma turn yellow and how all the veins from his body were ready to pop up, an imense feeling of amusement took her.

"Each time I gave birth my man sat in the corner of the room, silent and sobbing like a little child." The woman said happilly, as she was cleaning he hands of blood. "I see your's is tougher." She laughed placeing the candle closer to see what was going on.

"Push harder my girl, the child will come soon." The woman declared it in a very soft tone, softer than she wanted it to be.

Rathma still sat outside, going back and forth between staying outside and going inside, still a very deep curiosity pushed him to go inside and analize what was going on. Maybe his spells could help on something. This child was challanging from the begining, he thaught mesmerized be this thaught. Still afraid, he walked limping, again, as he aproached the room thousends of thaughts exhoed through his head louder than the first time, again the regret made it's way through his heart. Rathma came to accept it, the only rational thing he could to after almost 2 days of staying up, worrying and crying. Tears still fell over his face, pain was clutching into his chest, but he made a promise to be more than his parents for his children. Even calling them such sounded strange in his mind, but he would get used to it ecentually. The silence broke lose into the house, Rathma gasped waiting for the worst, he leaned over the wall listening inside. He had not the courage to get inside and sad ehat was going on. After a moment what seemed like an eternity, Rathma heard a baby cry that almost smashed him to the ground. Falling he started crying gratefull to all the stars out there for listening to his prey. In a moment of pure bliss he covered his face with his palms inhaling strongly. Soon the fear was washed away by pure glory and a strong bliss what covered him from head to toe. This immense happiness made him feel like a stone was removed from his heart, he could breath faster, he could think again. Closing his eyes he analized what he felt but it was a nothing. Confused but still happy, he entered in the barelly lit room and sat in the door way, looking around. He saw the midwife giving Esu some advices and the other woman a girl who covered the baby in some clothes. Rathma looked carefully at his baby but he could not attatch to it souly. He could not feel the love that he expected to feel, stunned he moved closer to uphold on a his work table. He looked again closer and saw two small pinky hands moving around and a small whimper came from the child. Curious, Rathma got closer, all his feelings still foading into him, like a river. He looked closer at the small baby with pink skin and fragile body. Devastated he sat still breaking his feelings into pieces but all he found was a deep mercy for his newborn who was shriking helpless. Mercy was all he felt, nor love, nor attathcement, just pure mercy and he was utterly horrified by this.

The midwife put the baby in his arms, the small boundle of flesh kept twitching and moving around in the sheets. Rathma looked at the child confused, it felt like getting to know another person. The small tethless mouth was always open, the pink skin looked so fragile and thin. Rathma wondered if he could see the organs behind it. Rathma looked into the eyes hoping to find there something he could find love or something similar in there. He didn't but instead, he found the same questioning he was doing.

Suddenly, the child's eyes melten in a warm look and a giggle escaped it's tiny mouth. Rathma looked surprised at the baby keeping a more tight hold over the small warm body who stopped twitching.

"They know who their parents are!" The old midwife declared enthuziastic, blessing the child.


	8. Solemn meditation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I just finished Meditations by Marcus Aurelian. An amazing stoic book what could be milestone that can combat the weakness from our society. It is easy to read takes almost no time. This book was my inspiration for this chill chapter.

Rathma sat alone in the night, shaterring the illusions of utopia he made in his age of confussion, the age where dreams were sold to him by his greedy ego.

He laught at such illusions now when he became an adult, when he started to mature and see the world more than good and eveil, black and white, night and day, human and animal, whisper and shout.

All of it dissipated in a blink of an eye, it looked like a mere dream, sounded like the words spoke by another man .

Laying in the tall grass, with the sky as his cover, the nephalem counted the stars, murmuring to himself.

The world became more defined as time went by. He needed new eyes to see new ways.

He realized everything was happening for a reason, to make humans more mature and wise.

He could not find the words to describe this discovery. It was serenity, peace, freedom, maturity, wisdom.

Holding onto himself some tears, he smiled briefelly. It was the consummation of the moment. Every age brought something new.

He still could not find his place into the world, he could not comprehend all it's misteries, but he could understand his solemn duty, it was to teach people the wisdom of the world, to keep the balance between good and eveil eqal.

The alluring nature of life was just a state of being, it could not be undrestood, just lived. A soft breeze scratched his dry skin as a soft reminder that anything is always in motion. Anything had a meaning, even eveil and adversion, the 2 things hated by humanity the most.

This were the 2 sacred elements meant to push humans down and teach them defeat, humility, the law of understanding one's capacity and incompletability. Perfection is an element used in thorough ballance.

" Life and death are abstruse arts, each of us has to live to learn, live to make a legacy, live to fulfill the calling of destiny. " He muttured his gospel once again, his heart being floaded with an imense power.

Memento mori.

Anything had to die and be reborn.

Humans died many many spiritual deaths before their thin body would be put in a grave and let alone to rot and decompose, being forgoten for an eternity.

He shivered when he remembered the death, how some his children died infantile. A stream of guilt washed over his heart when he remember their tiny bodies sat into a small coffin, with their tiny eyes shut forever. He shivered because he could not cry for them, he grieved them, he hold the mourning period, but after his parents abuse he was left with a cold ability to response to life's sorrows. He knew they were tied by more than blood and love, they were tied in soul, he knew this and so closed his tired eyes, leaving small tears to roll over his face. "You were not ready to enter this world."

Passing his palm over his eyes, he washed away this thaughts grounding himself once again. He did his father duty to put them in the grave, as well as to protect them in death. There was nothing left to be done.

Alone in the sacred night on Sanctuary, the night of the souls, he left the rituals and prayings away. This year when he had 1000 years, he wanted to make it special, more about his being than the dieties that roamed with them in soul and mind, as mentors and masters. Dieties who are forever, celestial beings who choose to give their wisdom to mortals.

He could see the smoke from sabbats, rituals, but this would be a special night. It would be the night when he counted all the wisdom he gathered in this half of life, count his sorrows , lessons learned, beleifs he made, lessons he learned from those around him. One thousend years of existence, a mute celebration, a solemn meditation.

He remembered of all he learned from firends, compassion, care, the fruit of sharing.

But when he get to understand what he learned from his parents, his heart missed a beat, and broke. He sighed still stirred by the same old situation, it was a burden for him even now, it marked his soul and essence. But without this tragic familly background, would he have been the same man as now? No he would not. Anyone is there to show us another face of the existence. He thaught opening his eyes to the whole universe of blessings and curses cast upon him at his birth.

He learned that he could not have anything in life, a whole life is just an idle life, he grasped all the words people said about others were mere opinoins, meant to offer some insight of other's mind.

He learned from them to stand his ground, and maybe the most important element was to give up and start anew. He learned from both of them how to not be a parent. Giving life to a being is the most challanging experience humans had to concor in their lifetime. Because a life is not a tool to be used, is not a comodity, but a legacy. Counting on his own powers in all matters offered by fate was the most usefull weapon one could ever master.

"Persuating with your force will never be the solution!" He adressed in a whisper that was carried away by the cold wind. With this last thaughts, he freed himself of all his parents did to him, it was a benefic scar he had to bare. A parent is not a shield, is but a mentor and a teacher. His virtue came from sorrow and woe, deep deep woe, wich sat hanging over his soul in a futile way of describing his deepest essence.

"Dad, dad I saw the bats." His youngest child announced rushing to her dad who opened his arms to greet her. "They are so so beautifull but also scary." She told his when she finally got to sit into his arms.

"No ritual?" Esu asked amazed by it. She put the basket down and sat near them. "Did you broke the tradition?" She asked placeing a hand over his shoulder.

"I have one thousend years now, I just wanted to count all my wisdom and lessons in this blind night." Rathma said with a trace of emotion in his tone it was blended with melancholy.

"Dad I found chestnuts!"Helgrotha told her dad as she moved away from his arms and went dirrectly to the basket.

"Yes. She pestered me to take many to bake them. She really loves baked chestnuts. " Esu said softly watching the child turn the components of the basket upside down.

"What wisdom have you gathered, if you do not mind?" Esu said coming closer to the nephalem who put an arm around her.

"Well..."

After hearing this the witch came closer, leaning her ear more closer to his mouth, becoming complettely silent.

"Life is a never ending story." He started. " Everithing we know changes with our age, how big is the world as a whole and how small we are as beings. This existence of our's is so frail and precious, nothing can be as precious as it... Each of us has a legacy, a reason, but many are too blinded be feelings to see the road ahead of them. Failure is not the end, it is the begining of a new age. We die many spiritual deaths before our physiacal one. We as beings are not important, we are futile and useless, all that matters is the reason we act for, the legacy we leave behind, also how we make our life. Humility and deception are the most precious elements from this human existence, this teach us the way of life and that nothing is set in stone. Each day can be our last day. Everything is what we allow it to be." He paused for a brief moment to catch his breath. "This short lifes our children are suffering, is a reason to cherish each moment spend with them. The moment is one and forever, their mortality makes anything too short to even be counted. But all we can do about that is accept, understand and search for a breakthrough." He pased to look at his small daughter who was searching for the chestnuts and fell into a trace as he admired her. How quickly the turned from a baby into a child, time had no mercy. It stoppes for you only in your grave. 

Bul'kathos would oftenly tease him by saying that: this time his sperm was so strong, it didn't created a human being, it created a copy of the dour one. 

"Chestnuts." Helgrotha mumbled as she placed a multitude of small chestnuts into her father's palms. Many of the tough fruits , fell down crumbling into the grass without a sound. "Dad, dad, will you take me in your arms to see the little owls?" She asked looking dirrectly into Rathma's eyes, a joyfull smile burning on her tiny face. Giggling Esu looked at her daughter rebuking her for trying to bribe her father with a nice gesture. "But you do it always." The child excused herself speaking in a sweet tone.  
"Enough! Enough!" Rathma told to both of them as he took his daughter by the hand and walked her towards the old oak tree from their garden. A scene wasn't needed this night. Esu followed them in silence, enjoying this serene atmosphere between father and daughter. A sharp exited shout bursted from Helgrotha chest when Rathma took her on his shoulders, she was now above the world. After the got used with the height she started laughing, moving her head around, enjoying the view. Her mother made some small talk, but the child was too mesmerized by the view to care. All the was saying was how amazing was up there, on her Rathma's ahoulders. "It is so beautifull here!"  
"Do you see the owls?" Esu asked.  
There was just silence, for a good around of time, Helgrotha just moved the eyes around the branches, searching for the tiny birds. "I..I see them. They are... small and... fulffy and have big eyes. " The excitement was so alive in her voice, it put a simle on both her parents faces. She was descovering the world just one, first an animal, then a human, then a situation, all of this would culminate in her development as a human being. "Mom, can we keep them?" She asked timid placeing har palms on her Rathma's head.  
"No. They are wild animals. They have a mother who cares for them, we can not keep them. "  
"Your mother is right." Rathma said as he carefully placed his child down.  
This was an only moment where time and soul would align togheter, creating the perfect serenity that could least for an eternity into their minds. The truth was one and only a solemn understanding Rathma nor Inarius could ever comprehend in a milion lifetimes. Because a pure state of eternal insight would never be enough to gather the mystic universe in a whole definition.


	9. All he loved, he did so alone.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I read alone by Edgar Allan Poe. It inspired the title of this chapter.

"I AM LEAVING!"

Inarius wished this words were a mere lie, he wished his son did it just to spoil himself, just to seek atention. He still could not comprehend fully the loss of the one he loved with all his grace. 

He found himself seeing and overseeing the same memory over and over again. Walking in the same circle, trying not to cry or shout. He was devastated, haunted in his dreams by the bloodcurling scream of his defeated son. He saw him like this, crawling with a broken limb. Red blood dripping from his delicate white face . He knew just that he and his mother had an argument and sat smashed him into a wall multiple times. She said he was going to attack her, but he knew Linarian would not do such thing. Still he watched himself oftenlly doubting him.   
He was lost in the madness! The angel thaught in this moment, when he saw this devastated image of his offspring. 

He sat alone in the darkness of the night, weighing his feelings on a small ego. The whole world was lost, in such times, Inarius wished he had never did this. 

The missing was there, but he would not admit it. But something bounded him of this memory, he prayed to Anu he was well. But he was left alone behind, this hurt more than being cast into lava. The silent whispers, the silent tears, the silent hopes kept him in this situation, where hope gave him insight.   
He did it all for this ungratefull son, and he, he just ran away hiding somewhere in the shadows.

But the ghost of their final moments still haunted him, in his times of weakness. The blood that fell like a river from his head, nose. The sound of something cracking and his agonizing groans when he moved. The trembling from his voice, when he shouted he was leaving him and Lilith behind. The fragile whimper, that haunted him till this day.   
He wished his son wasn't born, sometimes he cursed him for existing and twitching his life around. If Linarian wasn't born, him and Lilith would have had another bound. Their love would have been anew, a paradise like in their first eons. 

Will you find your way back home? The angel kept asking in the silence of the universe hoping it would give him an answer, a sign. But the world kept being silent. His echo drowned in a cold silence, consumed, melting untill it became nothing more than a moment from the past. Hope has always been a wicked game of the mind. 

His legacy was shattered to dust and sorrow, becoming nothing more than a war, so many times he tryed to save him from this dark shadow side of him.   
But Linarian became more stubborn as time went by, the only thing that united them was their blood. He gave him so many chances, but the fool just stepped on his father heart with his disgracious atittude. 

Why was I cursed with such a son? The angel desperatelly asked himself, all he ever wanted was to break free from the war and bloodshed. But he realized war was in anything, from relationships to nations. What I did wrong? I am an angel, a being of pure genius, born from grace, why? 

Forever ever after never came for him. Hidden, in a world of his own, he realized he was as isolated and alone as he was in Heavens.   
He would catch himself day dreaming about how his son was doing, he wondered if he ever changed, or if he ever realized his grave mistake. No, he would have came back praying for forgiveness. The angel shrugged as he held this realization tight in his mind .  
The ungratefull left his father and mother behind like they were nothing, he acused them of terrible thing portaying them in scenes of war and eternal violence blended with manipulation.   
It was not true, in his case. Inarius did all he could to maintain the peace, he was a hero, he was an angel.   
He was a Creator of a new way of living, he made a new world from love. He was a true Cod.   
But fate shouveled disgrace in his face breaking the tables of his own angelic valor to the ground. Forcing the angel to let go of such sweat reveric dreams he worked for. Linarian never cared for him, love lived in a world of hardship! It was a lesson he learned this day. 

"There is always a meaning behind everything. Life is more than flesh and feelings. " His son always said that. "We are meant to face the defeat as a death before we reborn from our own ashes." The puzzling explanations came, loaded by the same wisdom of his own.   
"Life will go on, always takeing it's course. " That was the most beautifull explantaion his son gave in one of their heart to heart talks. He was proud of the offsping he begot.

The angel remembered all their moments, but now, he felt nothing, it was a blank space within his being when he thaught of his way ward son.   
No more grief, no more sorrow, no more resentmnent, no more disgust. He sat there, wandering if he had feelings left, he felt nothing. He had no words to express, no complaints to shout at the sky.

His being was numb. He was left out in the fog, all he saw was emptiness. Morbid emptiness that grabbed him by the wings, holding him suspended in the air. This was like a bareer between him and the vast universe.

Isolated, the angel tryed to gather all he felt right now, but it was just bloody cold resentment. A faint pale ghost what was dissipating into the whiff off a extingushed candle smoke.

This bastard, this wrtched son! He did anything for him. He gave him life, a name, a meaning, peace, stability. And what he did? He left at the first fight. A coward! Inarius sniffed while he was stepping agitated into the vast Worldstone chamber.

Trembling from anger, the angel curled on the floor in a ball of light and sat there inflemed by the inability to understand the reason for the crumbling of his beloved family life.  
"It could have been forever, but Li...naria...n choose to betray me! He made me realize he was lyieng. Like she dd...id!" Inarius mumbled trembling alone in the worldstone chamber. The crimson bright of the stone, made him look like the angel was decomposing into a pile of blood, flesh and meat.   
All his life he has been to lonelly, he came to the beleif that love was only for the lucky, for the ghifted.   
A father's love dilapidated!


	10. The art is murder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drunk chapter.   
Do not ask i can not explain right now, i think not even when i wake up. ;)

Stuck in the fog of mourn waiting forever. The pages are full of empty words who have the voice of a dull whisper. Another page full of unanswere questions, dust.

The most miserable artist is not the one who does his art drunk, the drunk artist is just sharply sincere. The one who can not do his art even dizzed by the spice of some old wine and aboundent pottle, this is the miserable artist.

The most miserable human is the one who accept to sit hanged in a spider web, waiting impatient to be devoured by the beast.

Misery births cowards!

His soul clutched on a dying withered hope, kneeling frozen at the edge between sanity and raving lunacy.

Stabbed by a sharp revelation of his own incompetence, where he could just hope to find the place where the daylight ended abruptly.

Hideous sweet covering the forehead, beautiful tears falling over a red face, drowned in the fever of extatic fear blended with an ancestral fury at oneself. Still, nor fury nor tears can't turn back the fragile tides of time.

Set in the chaines, let to rot alive by the unwilling labour of creation.

An act of creation always asks of an act of destruction, this is the sacred price of birthing.

But the idea of being is so small that it is caught in the breeze, carried away with the winds of autumn and despair. The hand still stretched to reach the backdoor to life where the being escaped leaving a trace a bitter rapture in it's sudden rush for oblivion.

In his hollow existence, the heart of this twisted artist yearns for a creation that can't be named, nor felt.

Just a reassuring sensation of fulfilment, just a trace of a think that would be so haunting that it can not be overcome by time and change.

With broken fingers waiting for the peony to undo it's petals who cover a sacred understanding of the human heart, in a new raw perspective, that could remake the way of living again. This was the order from the begining of humanity.

But the blush withers before undoing, showing a twisted curretage that smashes viciouselly the new way of unveiling, showing failure of nature. Teaching mortality in the hard way.

A distance between the moment and feeling there is the bloody gap that forms a empty hollow feeling in a mind stretched 'til it's breaking point. A hollow in a creative mind is worse than a sickness, than breaking of the bone and soul, because there is nothong to be told, nothing to be lived, just an infinite gap.

But this imense creation require to be so dedicated to the craft, to have the will to carry the weigh of the existence in worlds that are not here, but mirror reality in a twin way.

Art is not amazing glitter, never had been however the kalopsia cures the acute nihil of life's most naked form. Makeing art is oftenly revelatory, because introspection is the finest way of destruction.

Art is sorrow of the human, losing your mind in enlightment, placeing all the brutal truth into a piece of paper then leaving it be the voice of that time, to let it be the testimony of the human race.

Do not be a lustfull pig, do not talk only of trash, sqalor, atrocity, do not be an animal and put yourself at the top of the mountain of spiritual enlightment! This sop of yours is just a shade of arrogance. Solitute does not begot a genius, it begot the illusion of flying over the sky of the universe.

No one can reach the point of being calm like a lake in the middle of summer. But the struggle to place it all togheter while the world is crumbling, the struggle to get the kalopsia out of anything is the real art, the real existence.

Maturity does not tries to fix a harsh truth with a lie, the kalopsia just gets out the beauty from the nightmare, leaving the truth untouched.

A thousend suns die when a the frail soul is taken too soon by death's cold grip, stuck in the sea of mourn waiting for wisdom is the way of two roods, strenght or failure. Yet, it is too late to cry at the head of the dead, you just distrub their peace with your agonizing screams.

This is the legacy of the comdamned artist, showing life's real face and finding a wise solution for fate's fuckery. This is the legacy that won't be shuttered to nothing in eons and eons.

To want to get away from the shadow is not enough to give the courage to build the stairway to heaven. To know why is the key to life, known by so less.

Art is a sharp piece of a soul - mind broken from the deapths of the soul. Writing from the dog days is not artsy, if it is full complains, it is just an embarassing image of a broken ego.

Kala sat at her window, looking dreamy outside at the curtain of stars that stretched over that vast horizon. She wondered how would be to life so high? The trill of their solitude was bitter for her sensible soul who broke at the thaought of eternal solitude. Eternal stagnation, that brought with itself a pale light what was unimportant for so many. A tears rolled down her check only by thinking of such lonly, frozen existence. She grew up sealed away in a vast palace, blind, deaf, mute at the explosion of miracle that was the outside world. So vast, yet so lonely. Nobody had time to just stop and admire the miracle of nature, to think how all of this was carefully placed before their birth to provide them with the most fulfilling existence. This world was an expanding perfection.

She smiled as this conforting thaught came to her mind like a father's caress over his tiny child's head. To be alive and free was the best experience she could have asked for.

Still this hollow gap from her mind didn't left her alone for so long, a strong sensation of numbing froze her thin fingers. She realized she was losing mind with this reveric admiration, without thinking of a subject for her picture. Landscapes were beautiful but she felt sick of the thaught of doing another one. She painted enough, she wanted something new that would wake the crazy obssesion into her soul. Something to make all her mind quiver under the fever of deliric creation. But this ideal never showed up, leaving her empty inside and out.

She looked in the darkness knowing she will find something meaningfull, life is a discovery, you have to pay attention.

A pale face looked directly at her from afar, she felt like fainting at the sight of such perfect features. The lush green eyes looked directly into her's. She felt a stream of life floading from them, breathtakeing! She could not feel her own soul in this mere seconds what seemed like thousends of eons of solitude. Solitude. it was the right word to describe the feeling emanated by those mesmerizing eyes. She gasped not knowing what else to do, it was enough to alarm the strange man that he was watched. After his melting in the shadows of the night she could not gather her strenght to come back in the present moment. She was afraid she would forget this face, this features sculped by a God. He was clearly a result of her wild imagination. No! He was real, he seemed real. His face and body seemed out of this world. Such beauty could not be hold by an only human being. He was surreal. This was her last thaught before deciding to turn back to the dull reality of her's, where the paint sat dry on the brush. Instruments of art, forgoten in a corner of her desolate room. The plain canvas looked as white as a death sentence, it held into it what her artistic soul feared the most... nothingness. A burl stopped in her neck makeing the air seem like a luxury, it was the messed time where the paradise became a venomous hell. It was the time where she had to gather her fallen remains, still keep going even without a clear direction. Desolate she covered her rosy face with her small palms covered in dry colors. Wanting to shout but feeling incapable of catching her breath and actually screaming in frustration, she felt trapped in a numb carcass with a burining soul that screamed for wholeness in her being. This blockage was wierd it... closed her vision on life in a cold way.

Kala felt left at the edge, with only a step away from losing her thin minds. Clutching her chest with both of her hands, she swallowed empty air as she was counting the reasons to beleive that it was for real, this man was sent to her by the divine to be her astonishing muse. Opening her eyes and drowining her feet in cold water she started to place the image of him in place.

Painting is not just drawing what you think is nice on a paper and then showing off with it. It is the most raw way of explaining life at a profond sentimental level where logic left, heart and mind analizing this serene pictures of life.

Her blood ran hot through her sweaty body, this was like a forced wake up to reality. The cold water froze her numbed feeling unleashing the inner sense that Kala called "fairy". Takeing her colors and her scattered brushes she looked at the blank canvas, as the cold wind of spring entered on the window. This chill to the bones, was a shocking poke in the moment where the trivial thaughts left on winds of dust. This sensation of acute coldness to the bones, made every breath to sound like a heartbeat. Clutching her teeth she draw the contour of the face holding her breath to the point where her face turned purple.

This obsession burned new life into her ravaged being, from now she had something to care for, something to die for, something to sore for.

Falling into creation is like falling into madness, both require you to lose the grip on youself.

Blind from her obsession, consumed by her perfection she started to turn against herself more and more with every curve and line that filled the canvas. With every drop of color she could fell her blood ran hot in her body, it built rage within. Art became the consumer, now she could not gather her pieces from the pavement, her skills were to small to match this perfection. But she kept trying, she clutched her hand in a fist after each failure, swaering at herself. Tears of desperation fell over her dry check, pale from exhaustion she grinned her teeth. Sleep was always a reason for the coward to give up! She kept reassuring herself even if the bones felt hard on her body and each small movement sore like a whip slap.   
In this way a huge pile of unfinished pictured surrounded her like a cage.   
A cage or a purgatory?


End file.
